


The Bird and The Businessman

by SweetSorcery



Series: The Bird and the Businessman [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Birthday Party, Blow Jobs, Bottom Credence Barebone, Bottom Original Percival Graves, Businessman Original Percival Graves, Businessmen, Costume Kink, Costumes, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Developing Friendships, Don’t copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Entertainer Credence Barebone, Falling In Love, Family Feels, Feels, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Hand & Finger Kink, Happy Credence Barebone, Happy Ending, Holding Hands, Humor, Innuendo, Kissing, Light Angst, Love at First Sight, M/M, Male Slash, Modesty and Chastity are Not Barebones, Multiple Orgasms, Neck Kissing, Opposites Attract, Original Percival Graves Needs a Hug, Overstimulation, Possessive Original Percival Graves, Protective Original Percival Graves, Public Display of Affection, Public Transportation, Rimming, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Tension, Size Kink, Slash, Smitten Original Percival Graves, Suits, Surprise Kissing, Switching, Teasing, Top Credence Barebone, Top Original Percival Graves, Topping from the Bottom, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wet & Messy, Workaholic Original Percival Graves, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-05 10:33:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17917076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: It's anything but 'Business as usual' when grumpy CEO Percival Graves meets a chicken on the subway... an extremely beautiful, vivacious chicken about to turn his day, and his life, upside down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 
> 
> Written for Dreamwidth's [Fluffbingo](https://fluffbingo.dreamwidth.org/) challenge.
> 
> Prompt: First Sight

Percival had left home that morning with no high hopes for the day, which was scheduled to be busy with back-to-back appointments, meetings and the mundane daily tasks even a company CEO couldn't bow out of whenever it pleased him.

And he certainly had no high hopes for the subway ride to Lower Manhattan, wishing devoutly for the magic power to simply disappear from his Upper West Side apartment and reappear in his office in an instant. Chance would be a fine thing.

Somehow, he managed to get a seat on the crowded train and, shortly thereafter, wished he hadn't. 'Whoever had designed the placement of the handrails inside a subway carriage,' thought Percival, 'ought to be pushed off the top of the Chrysler Building; did everyone seated _really_ have to end up with the crotches of complete strangers in their faces?' He sighed.

With each stop, another swarm of commuters piled into the already overcrowded carriages, and Percival would have gladly given up his seat in exchange for standing room, by that point, were it not for the fact that being jostled up against a multitude of people was just as unappealing as being face to face with their nether regions. It was at that moment that he made up his mind to commute exclusively by cab from that day on. He could afford it easily enough, after all; what was he trying to prove?

At the next station, he got a brief glimpse of a seat right opposite freeing up, on the other side of the shifting mass of bodies, only to instantly fill again with... Percival blinked... a bundle of white feathers. He could just see, past an arm swinging a briefcase in front of him, a tall white cap with a red tricorne-like structure on top.

He blinked, assuming he was looking at an overgrown child with a love of bizarre costumes and parents with no authority whatsoever. All he could make out was a vast quantity of white plumage, something that looked like puffy white knickers, and high-heeled gold-tone boots on legs in gold stockings; legs absolutely not belonging to a child. They were long, slender, but well defined in a masculine way and so, presumably, was the rest of the boy... man... underneath the feathers. Percival caught an intriguing glimpse of luscious black curls spilling out from under the crazy cap; the head was still tipped down, because the bird was fiddling with the zip on the right boot.

With the next jostle of the row of bodies dangling in front of him like carcasses off meat hooks, Percival tilted his head to peer through between them and under the overhanging tricorne. He watched a long-fingered hand reach into a cloth bag—bright red with a multi-coloured witch design on it, he noted with a snort—and extract a folded sheet of paper.

The bird was reading whatever was on the paper, unfortunately holding it up in front of most of his face, but he had lifted his head just far enough for Percival to make out a lightly stubbled, razor-sharp jaw line, and a hollow pale cheek underneath a high cheekbone.

Now, Percival wasn't the kind of guy to get excited about anything on the subway, except possibly the end of his ride, but he _did_ get excited about that kind of bone structure. That tall, slender body and sharply chiseled face belonged to a young man with an exceptionally unique dress sense and, just as he tried to devise a way to make him look up so he could see the rest of that face, they came into a station. And the bird looked up, presumably to check the station name.

Percival gasped. He had expected to find the whole face made up in some ridiculous way to go with the rest of the costume, but he was pleasantly surprised. Soft, almond-shaped brown eyes with long lashes blinked innocently under sweeping brows, and the lush, almost shamefully rosy lips of the bird were shaped as if they'd been painted by a Pre-Raphaelite artist.

Several people got off at this station including, thankfully, several of the corpses which had dangled in front of him, but a handful of new arrivals came in too, including a little old lady supporting herself on crutches.

Percival made to rise to offer his seat, both to be kind and because standing would put him closer to bird boy than sitting, but the boy beat him to it, shooting to his golden feet and leading the woman to his own seat.

She fussed over him, thanking him profusely and petting his fluffy feathers with a laugh, and the boy smiled sweetly at her.

Percival was suddenly glad he wasn't standing. He stared at the smiling lips, _willing_ the boy to look at him, once he'd deposited the old lady in his seat.

And then he did, in search of a place to stand, and his eyes met Percival's with a wonderful inevitability.

Percival's usually blasé heart began to pound and, if he was of a foolishly sentimental inclination, he'd be tempted to think in clichés about angels singing or time standing still. He rose to his feet and took a step forward. "Please, take my seat," he offered chivalrously.

Bird boy gifted him with an even more luminous smile then and shook his curly head, cap bobbing up and down. "Thank you, sir, but I think I'm getting off soon." His voice sounded cheerful, sweet, and perfectly innocent, considering...

Percival opened his mouth to say... he didn't know what, truth be told, but that was the moment the train started up again with a jolt, and several things happened at once: bird boy's eyes widened as he flew forward into Percival's arms, Percival was thrown backwards to land once again in the seat he'd just vacated, arms full of feathers and beautiful boy this time, and the old lady across from them giggled like a mad crone.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," said bird boy.

"Are you hurt? Are you okay?" asked Percival at the same moment, letting his hands roam over the feathered body, ostensibly to check for injuries, while trying not to bury his nose too obviously in the boy's curls. Still, he couldn't help note how soft they were and that they smelled vaguely of vanilla, of all things.

"I'm fine, sir, but how are you? Did I hurt you?"

"I'm so glad. I'm fine too. In fact, I've..." Percival smiled. "I've never felt better."

The boy stopped scrambling for purchase with his feet on the floor, remaining frozen and looking at Percival, at an odd sideways angle, perched on Percival's left thigh and clinging to his shoulders, while Percival had both arms around him, staring up at him, mesmerised by the fact that, this close, that face was even more outrageously beautiful than it had looked from across the carriage. And now it was flushed, too, and the cherry red lips were slightly parted.

"Oh," the boy whispered.

"Hmm," hummed Percival.

"I... I might have twisted my ankle a bit," bird boy said, promptly flushing more deeply, lowering his eyes for a moment.

If not for the body language, Percival would have been concerned. Instead, he felt decidedly elated. "I hope it's not broken?"

"Oh gosh, no." The boy met his eyes again, looking a little guilty. "In fact, it's probably okay, I should—"

He made to stand, and Percival's arms immediately tightened around him. "Best not to take chances. It might be sprained, and you'll only be in unnecessary pain, trying to stand on it."

"You think so, sir?"

"I'm sure of it. Better stay right here for now." Percival held on tight, giving the feathered waist a brief squeeze, to show he meant it. "How far are you going?"

"I'm headed for Greenpoint, so I'll need to change trains soon."

So much for getting off soon. Percival thought quickly: Greenpoint was at the upper end of Brooklyn—so ridiculously far out of his way to Lower Manhattan, he'd miss all his morning appointments by the time he made it back and got to the office. "You'll need help walking to wherever you're going there. That is, unless you need me to take you to a doctor instead?"

"I don't think it's as bad as that, sir." There was a moment's hesitation. "While I'd appreciate your help, I really don't want to be any trouble?"

The entire conversation was ludicrous, Percival was well aware, but if the boy was going to let him get away with playing knight in shining armour, he certainly wasn't going to call him out on the seriousness of his _injury_.

"You're no trouble at all." He smiled up into the lovely face, and received a beautiful smile in return.

Out of the corner of his eye, Percival saw the old lady beaming, hand on her heart. He cleared his throat. "My name is Percival Graves, by the way."

"Credence Barebone. Pleased to meet you." The boy raised his left hand in greeting, fingers pointed down, because there was very little room for movement without hitting someone, and Percival vaguely shook it with his right, and they both laughed at the awkwardly angled handshake.

"If you don't mind my saying so, Mr Graves, you look as if you're heading into town for business." A slender hand traced curiously along Percival's fine blue suit lapels, fingertips fluttering over his pale blue tie. Then the hand was quickly withdrawn, and the boy looked guilty, as if only then realising what he was doing. "Are you really sure you can spare the time?"

"Absolutely sure, Credence." Percival fought to control his voice. "May I call you Credence?" The boy nodded eagerly. "I have nothing urgent on today at all." That was a blatant lie, but Percival figured that, considering he'd utterly forgotten about all the day's appointments, it was at least a half-truth.

"Oh. Well, I was... I mean, I am going for a job."

Thinking that a bird costume was a fairly unusual job interview outfit, Percival chuckled, knowing full well he'd give the boy any job he wanted, even if he showed up at his company looking like that.

"Oh, I know that sounds ridiculous." Credence laughed as well. "What I mean is that I have a job to do in Greenpoint." He looked a little sheepish. "I'm a performer at children's birthday parties. I turn up in whatever costume fits the theme, and the little ones I'm supposed to entertain today are apparently very fond of chickens." He giggled, shaking his curly head until the red tricorne—a chicken's comb, of course, now that Percival could see it from the side—flopped back and forth.

"You're a chicken?" Percival teased, hopelessly charmed. "You look decidedly like a swan to me."

There was that endearing blush again, but Credence's voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. "If you hadn't caught me, Mr Graves, I'd be nothing more than a pile of ruffled feathers."

Percival looked up into the pink-cheeked face, even while letting his fingers trail through the thick white plumage over Credence's stomach. His excuse, if anyone should ask, was that he wasn't really touching the boy; he surely couldn't feel his fingers through so much fluff. "I'd never forgive myself, if that had happened."

They were so lost in each other's eyes, they didn't notice they were coming into the next station, and almost didn't notice the little old lady heading towards the exit, stopping off beside them.

"Here, dear, you forgot your bag on the other side," she told Credence, placing the witch bag in his lap, where it was left leaning against Percival's stomach.

Credence looked horrified then. "Oh no! My keys are in there and everything." He looked at her gratefully. "Thank you so much, ma'am! I'm sorry, I can be so scatter-brained sometimes."

She cackled. "Never mind. I know what that's like. I was young once too." She winked at Percival and leaned down to whisper something into Credence's ear, which made him blush worse than ever. Then she hobbled off to the nearest door.

"Good advice from one of your elders?" Percival asked as nonchalantly as he could whilst dying of curiosity.

"Something like that, yes." Credence ducked his head, but he was smiling softly. 

Percival found himself wondering if he could possibly create a job vacancy in his office, just for Credence. He would install him in a velvet armchair across from himself at his desk, and all he'd have to do was to smile at Percival once in a while. He had no doubt even the dullest, busiest and most annoying of days would be improved a dozen times over. He'd pay whatever the boy might ask.

"Is everything all right, sir?" Credence asked with concern.

"Everything's just fine." Percival chuckled. "I was just wondering whether I could possibly hire you to work in my company. You'd cheer the place up no end."

Credence laughed softly. "Do you have much use for someone who likes to dress in colourful costumes and entertain children?"

Thinking about a variety of colourful costumes he could well imagine on that tall, gracefully moving body, and entirely for his own entertainment, Percival cleared his throat and concentrated on the safer part of the question. "Some of my colleagues definitely qualify as children, but if that won't do, I could always adopt some."

Credence blinked at him. Then he smirked a little and, twirling a few feathers near his collarbones around his fingertips, asked with faked indifference, "You don't have any children then?"

"No, I'm entirely unattached," Percival told him. Privately, he thought, 'At least I was until today.'

"That's hard to believe." The boy looked at him in a very flattering way.

"I'm a horribly grumpy man," Percival told him earnestly. "An absolute grouch. Unbearable before breakfast, bad-tempered until well after lunch, and fed up with the world by dinnertime. Ask anyone who knows me."

"I find that hard to believe too." Credence looked amused. Then his eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, I think I need to get off at the next station and change to the 'L' train."

Percival considered this. "There's a fair bit of walking involved there, and you'd need to change to another train again. If you're not running late, I suggest we stay on this one and change just once."

Credence gave him a long look. "I have a little over an hour to get there. I'm notoriously unpunctual, so I've had to start giving myself lots of spare time to meet appointments."

Percival laughed. "In that case, we should get there early." He gave a brief thought to his afternoon appointments as well and mentally shrugged them off.

"I'm bound to be making you late for something," Credence said, as if he'd read his thoughts, looking guilty once again.

Percival smiled reassuringly. "Not for anything more important than keeping an eye on you, don't worry."

Credence swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing noticeably. "You're a real gentleman, Mr Graves."

"What can I say? Chickens bring out my protective side."

Credence laughed, flashing pretty white teeth, including a slightly chipped canine which looked remarkably like a fang and only made him more attractive. "That makes you a rooster, Mr Graves."

Percival chuckled. He looked up at the red comb on top of the boy's head and said, "I'll have to find myself a suitable outfit. I'm sure you can tell me just where to look."

"Oh, there's no need. Being a rooster is a state of mind, you know." Credence grinned. "You couldn't hide it if you tried."

"I bow to your judgment. You're the expert on poultry."

Giggling, Credence ducked his head. "Only today. Tomorrow, I'll be a pirate."

Percival instantly visualised him with those curls he could only guess at flowing freely, looking hopelessly dashing in a ruffled shirt pulled wide open, pants tucked into tall boots... He swallowed, and considered the fact that, tomorrow, he'd be exactly what he was today: a boring CEO in a boring security firm. "You know how to live, Credence," he said, somewhat enviously.

Credence tilted his head, smiling at him. "Most people just think I'm a bit loopy."

Percival gave him a long look, wishing he would never be called on to look at anyone else ever again. "I think you're wonderful," he said huskily, before he could think too hard about it.

Those pretty teeth sank into the plush bottom lip and Credence's cheeks pinked again. Once he released the abused lip, he whispered, "I think you are too, Mr Graves."

"Percy," he offered softly.

"Percy." Credence made the name sound less like a quaint, old-fashioned thing and more like a kiss breathed on a cheek.

"Will you have dinner with me?" Percival asked.

Credence nodded, smiling brightly. "I'll be done with work by midday, or early afternoon at the latest," he told him.

"In that case, have lunch with me as well." Percival gave him a pleading look.

"Yes." Credence's voice was soft, as was his expression.

* * *

When they changed trains at Hoyt Schermerhorn, Percival ensured he never lost touch with Credence in the bustle of people rushing to and fro, keeping one arm firmly around his waist at all times as if he was actually providing much needed support for an injured ankle.

Credence played along, one or both arms around his neck while he limped just a little for show. At first at least. Eventually, he laughed and just rested his hand loosely on Percival's nearest shoulder, but he let himself be lifted up into the next train, with Percival's hands on his waist, before drawing him up with a firm hand. When Percival found a seat near the door, he hesitated a moment, but smiled when Percival simply drew him back into his lap.

"I'll get used to this," Credence warned.

"I don't see the problem." They both laughed at that. Percival tried to remember when he'd last had so much fun on a weekday, or on any day, and couldn't.

They talked non-stop all the way to Nassau Av station, where they emerged above ground side by side, Percival's arm again around Credence's waist, even though neither of them continued to keep up the injury pretence.

Almost as soon as they'd left the station, Percival's phone went off. They both walked around the subway exit, stopping behind it in front of a plain wall. Without letting go of Credence, Percival fished his phone from his coat pocket and glanced at its multitude of messages:

_Mr Graves, will you be on time for the 8:30 meeting? The department heads are assembling early, as you requested._

_Mr Graves, are you ill? You're never late._

_Sir, Ms Picquery is very displeased that you missed your appointment with her. She's threatening to hire a competitor._

_Could you please acknowledge that you're receiving messages? Is your phone broken? Have you had an accident?_

Snickering, Percival said, " Excuse me, Credence, I just need to make a quick call."

Credence nodded, watching him with interest as he connected to the office.

_"Good morning, you've reached the headquarters of MACUSA. Percival Graves' office here, how may I—oh, it's you, Mr Graves. What's _happened_ , sir?"_

"Calm down, Tina, I'm fine. There's been an... incident..." He smiled at Credence.

_"I knew it, sir! It had to have been an accident. You're never late."_

Percival winced at that level of predictability. "I said 'incident', Tina. I haven't been in an accident. I've had a run in with a chicken." Credence giggled, and Percival smiled at him, putting his mobile on speaker for his benefit.

_"Sir, did you say... chicken?"_

"Yes, Tina, I said chicken. I'm making sure the bird is well taken care of and fed and gets home safe."

_"Mr Graves, are you sure you're all right?"_ Tina sounded ready to send a medical team off in search of him.

"Tina, I assure you, I have literally never felt better." Percival held Credence's eyes, enjoying the way the boy's face lit up while his lips curled into a soft smile. "I need you to cancel all my appointments for today."

_"But sir, there's so much to do! And there's a stockholders' meeting tomorrow."_

"All of them, Tina, do you hear? I will not be in the office today, nor will I be available by phone, and I count on you to make a suitable excuse, whether or not poultry is mentioned. If you make it believable, there'll be a bonus in it for you."

Credence's jaw had dropped, dark eyes wide and stunned now.

_"Uh, yes, sir. I'll do my very best. Um... I hope you'll have a nice day... with the... uh... chicken."_

"So do I, Tina, so do I."

The moment Percival ended the call, Credence started to giggle uncontrollably, and he joined in. "I... I'm sorry, I should feel so bad about interfering with your day like this, Percy, but..." Credence grew serious when Percival stepped closer to him.

"But...?" Percival smirked when Credence's laughter turned into hasty breathing.

Credence swallowed. His back was nearly against the wall. "I'm afraid I'm selfish. I can't feel truly bad about it, when being with you makes me so happy."

"Credence," Percival breathed. He cupped Credence's cheek, the skin smooth and warm from its light flush. He looked at the soft red lips—slightly parted and positively pleading to be kissed—moving closer. They were close enough for him to smell Credence's breath: sweet and minty with a hint of coffee.

"You must be Credence!" came a bright, cheerful voice into the anticipatory silence.

They jumped apart, both of them suddenly face to face with a pretty strawberry blonde who was beaming like the sun itself, eyes darting back and forth between them in amusement. "At least, I assume you're Credence, unless someone else around here has hired a chicken for a party today."

"Mrs Kowalski?" Credence checked, his voice still gratifying shaky and breathless, Percival noted.

"That's right, honey, I am. I was just on the way home from the shops; forgot a couple of things. Lorimer Street is just about 50 yards this way, and we live a little way down that. You might as well come with me now."

Credence held out his hand to shake hers, once Percival had stepped aside, then Percival shook it too.

"Percival Graves, pleased to meet you, Mrs Kowalski."

Credence said, "Mr Graves was kind enough to accompany me. I'm afraid I kind of... fell on him on the subway, and he wanted to make sure there was no lasting damage."

"Aww, you fell on him? Geez, that's too bad." Mrs Kowalski was clearly fighting not to laugh, looking from one awkward guilty expression to the other. "Which one of you got damaged then?"

"Um... it kind of, well, I think we both..." Credence babbled.

Percival put him out of his misery by clearing his throat. "I think it hit us both pretty hard." He looked hopefully at Credence.

Credence's eyes went impossibly soft as he smiled at him. "Yes, it really did."

"So you're looking after each other, I guess? That's so sweet." Her cheeks dimpled with suppressed amusement.

Percival thought he should say something useful and remove himself from events which didn't involve him at all, such as Credence's actual occupation. "Mrs Kowalski, is there a coffee shop nearby where I can wait until Credence is finished?"

"A coffee shop?" She looked at him as if he'd asked for directions to the nearest Viking settlement. "You ain't going to a coffee shop, honey, when we have boxes full of cakes and cookies and all the coffee and tea you could want, along with a sickening amount of lemonade and juice."

"I couldn't possibly intrude on a private party, but it's kind of you—"

"Hogwash! You won't be intruding if you're invited, will you?" She grinned, and Credence and Percival exchanged an amused look, before Percival shrugged and agreed. "Good, that's settled then. Come along now."

"Yes, ma'am," Credence said obediently.

" _Ma'am?_ " She looked at him in horror. "Lord in heaven, no. My name's Queenie, and I insist you both call me that." She was pleased when they said they would, but tried to protest when Percival and Credence each took one of her bags, leaving her empty-handed, but she let them get away with it. "You both okay to walk a short way, with the extra burden?" she asked jokingly.

"I'm sure, but just in case..." Percival slung his free arm around Credence's waist again, keeping him pressed close to his side and thanking his lucky stars he had no briefcase on him today.

Credence beamed at him, well aware Mrs Kowalski was chuckling to herself.

They walked maybe a couple of hundred metres to get to the Kowalski family home—an unassuming 2-storey place in the prettily leafy Lorimer Street, lined with trees on both sides.

"Nice neighbourhood," Percival commented as they followed her to the front door where she busied herself with her keys.

She nodded eagerly. "It's like a big village around here. Lots of Polish folks, like my husband Jacob. He's taken the kids for a walk around McCarren Park, down the end of the road. Good thing it's a school holiday."

"That'll give me a chance to complete my costume before they see me," Credence said.

"It's incomplete?" Percival asked, amazed and boggling at what else Credence might possibly add to his already hilariously cute get up.

Queenie grinned when Credence explained that he'd make a horribly unconvincing chicken without a beak and chicken feet.

"Well, if you put it like that." Percival laughed.

"You're a great sport, coming all this way in character," Queenie said. "My girls will love it."

They'd entered the warm living room by then, and it was decorated all over with streamers and balloons. From there, they were lead into the dining room, where parcels were sitting on a side table, and a dining table was laden with dishes and a vast variety of baked goods.

"We own a bakery. Jacob loves any excuse to spoil his family," Queenie told them proudly, then grew serious. "We adopted the girls out of a crazy fanatic's foster home, 'cause we couldn't have any of our own, and we do all we can to make up for everything they've missed out on.

"Oh, that's... that's really sweet," Credence said, his voice a little thick. He smiled when Percival looked at him in concern, and quickly said, "Well then..." He reached into his witch bag and withdrew a couple of strange flipper-type items with toes, attaching them to the front of his boots; overgrown chicken feet. Lastly, he extracted a pointy yellow beak mask with a couple of well hidden air holes and an invisible string to strap it around his face. "I guess I'm ready."

Queenie cackled into her palms, and Percival just looked Credence over from head to foot, then focussed on his sparkling dark eyes. He wondered how he had lived so long without this young man in his life.

There was some commotion at the front door, and Queenie said, "Oh, just in time! That'll be the girls and Jacob."

A jovial dark-haired man with a blonde girl holding each of his hands entered, trailing half a dozen other children along behind him. "Hey sweetie, brought most of the party along! They were on the way here already," he called from the front hallway. "Hello there," he greeted the strangers in his home with a beaming smile.

"Good morning, Mr Kowalski," Percival said.

"Jacob dear, this is Credence... obviously," Queenie introduced, "and Percival here came along because he's looking after him after a bit of an injury. Just to make sure he's okay."

"Oh dear, nothing serious, I hope?" Jacob asked, then picked up on the twinkle in Queenie's eyes and grinned.

"I'm afraid it might be," Credence murmured behind his beak, meeting Percival's eyes.

Percival felt a wash of warmth like a summer rain.

The smaller of the two girls giggled at Credence's costume, and he leaned down to her, looking at her with smiling eyes as she petted his beak. "Hello, you must be Modesty."

"I am!" She beamed. "Thank you for coming to my birthday party."

"My pleasure, Modesty."

"I'm Chass," the older girl introduced herself, looking a lot more serious, but smiling politely.

There were more introductions and, soon, the party was in full swing, with a few more kids arriving soon after.

Percival kept well out of the way, chatting with Queenie and Jacob and generally helping to keep an eye on things and, quite frankly, on Credence in particular, who looked utterly at home running about and playing with a horde of children who fussed over him, tugged at his feathers, and hitched rides on his back.

"Looks like he made a pretty good recovery from his fall," Queenie murmured next to Percival.

Percival smiled. "He did, yes. Still, better safe than sorry."

"I agree," she said. "You wouldn't want to take chances and let him out of your sight."

"No, I wouldn't," Percival said. "Never, if I can help it." He felt her eyes on his face and turned to look at her a little sheepishly.

Her hand clutched his forearm. "Then don't. There's nothing in this world more important than love. When you find it, you have to hold onto it with all you've got."

Until that day, it had only existed in his life as a concept. Something other people experienced. Now, he could do nothing but nod his agreement. "I know, Queenie."

She grinned. "I hope you'll both stay for lunch. We have far too much food, and I think the kids will just love having lunch with a chicken at the table."

Percival laughed. "All right. We'd love to, thanks."


	2. Chapter 2

Somehow, and Percival had no precedent for this in his former life, he was pulled into the fun and games of the party.

He suspected that the way Credence looked at him, once he took off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to help set up the Ring Toss game, had a lot to do with it. Percival's job was to ensure every child won at least three prizes, so whenever anyone struggled with their aim, he'd crouch beside the child and would help them throw the rings over the target.

Chinese Whispers was fun for them both and, if Percival ensured that, when it was his turn to pass the message in question onto Credence, his lips would linger on the shell of his ear and his tongue would flick against his lobe whenever possible, who could blame him?

By the time everyone sat down for lunch, there was an actual argument between several of the children as to who should get to sit next to Credence and him. In the end, Modesty pulled birthday girl rank and demanded to sit between Percival and Credence, while the serious Chass slipped into the seat on the other side of Percival before any of the smaller kids could beat her to it; her brief grin looked rather smug.

Credence, beak or no beak, was laughing at Percival's flabbergasted expression, he could tell from the way his eyes sparkled and crinkled at the corners, and he tried to give him his sternest stare over Modesty's head. On this day, he knew it was unlikely to come out remotely effective or even believable, so he smiled at him instead.

After lunch, he drew Credence aside and whispered to him, "It was very strange, sitting down without you on my lap."

Credence laughed, even while he shivered at the tickle of Percival's warm breath in his ear, and replied, "I almost joined the fight, but just sitting next to you wouldn't be enough for me anymore. I'm spoiled now."

Percival, hand squeezing Credence's upper arm, looked at him in a way he hoped conveyed what he would say if they were alone, rather than in a room stuffed to the rafters with children. Judging by the heated flush on Credence's face, he succeeded, and he let go of him with a smirk.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon by the time they left the Kowalski home. Little Modesty, who had turned nine that day, clung to Credence's neck when he leaned down to ruffle her hair. She didn't want to let him go. She'd practically adopted him as her older brother by that point and had hardly left his side.

Percival could understand her attachment all too well.

"You'll come back, won't you?" she asked pleadingly.

Credence, beak-less now, looked at her a little sadly. "Aww, Modesty, I'm afraid—"

"Sure he will," Jacob quickly said, and Queenie nodded enthusiastically.

Credence gave them a wide-eyed look. 

Modesty beamed and said, "Can Percy come back too?"

Percival blinked, not recalling ever having had a child enjoy his company so much, and vice versa. Modesty was a unique little girl. How he had become 'Percy' to everyone in the household was still a mystery to him, but he suspected Modesty and Credence were behind that.

"We insist he does!" Queenie said, quickly rummaging for something in a hall stand drawer. She came back with a business card, a small notepad, and a pen. "I've got Credence's card right here. Percy, write your number on the back, and I'll give you ours."

Percival, feeling quite overwhelmed by the casual friendship offer, nodded and complied, and they exchanged phone numbers.

"You'll have to come for a proper Polish dinner real soon," Jacob told them. "Queenie and I love any excuse to treat our friends with good food."

"That would be wonderful," Credence said. His voice was thick, and he looked close to tears, and Percival found himself wondering whether, for all his cheerfulness and ease, a close family wasn't something that was missing from both their lives.

"We'd absolutely love to," Percival said sincerely, and Credence gave him one of his most beautiful smiles and, all at once, it felt so much as if they were a couple agreeing to come and see old friends, it quite took his breath away.

He hadn't yet fully regained it when they made it to the street outside, and the front door closed behind them.

The very next breath he took was Credence's.

Credence had turned to him, his hands cupping Percival's face, the exact moment Percival reached out for him, and their mouths all but crashed into each other. They both drew back with a gasp and, remembering at once that crashing into each other was simply how they did things, they both laughed huskily.

But then Percival's arms moved around Credence's waist, and he leaned in to kiss him again. And Credence wrapped his arms around his neck, smooth feathers caressing his cheeks. The red lips parted against Percival's with a soft moan, and Percival tightened his hold on him and licked his way between them, starving for Credence's taste as he had never starved for food in his whole life.

Credence whimpered, clinging to him. They took turns taking control of the kiss, neither remembering they were in the middle of a residential street, in bright daylight, and one of them looked like an overgrown chicken. They only stopped once they had to breathe, foreheads pressed together.

"I've wanted to do that for hours," Credence croaked.

"So have I. And now I want to keep on kissing you for hours." Percival held him close, brushing his lips over the tip of Credence's nose.

"That works for me. When is good for you?" Credence offered, panting.

Percival breathed out a shaky laugh against his lips. "As soon as we finally get to somewhere private." He drew back only far enough to reach up and pull the white cap with the red chicken comb off Credence's head, and a thick if tangled mass of black curls spilled out. He made a soft sound of appreciation, stuffed the cap into his suit pocket, and ran his fingers through those curls reverently until Credence shivered.

Credence glanced around, laughing nervously when he realised they were drawing a little bit of attention from passersby. "Somewhere I can turn human again. My... my place, maybe?"

Percival smirked. "In Hell's Kitchen, right?"

"How did you..." Credence chuckled. "Of course, my card." Then he sighed with frustration. "God, that's such a long way away."

"No, it's not. Not by cab," Percival told him. "I'm sure they have cabs here in Greenpoint."

Credence made a half-hearted attempt at protesting the expense.

"I want to be behind a closed door with you as soon as possible, and I'll sell my soul for that, if it's the price," Percival told him, smiling when Credence shivered. "But I'll behave, if that's what you really want."

"No," Credence told him quickly, nuzzling against his cheek. "No, it's not, I... please, Percy, take me home. As quickly as possible."

Percival groaned, the heat of Credence's body under his hands, where they rested in the small of his back, unspeakably intimate all of a sudden. "As quickly as I can, baby."

They found a cab in record time, and Percival promised the driver a handsome tip if he got them to Credence's address by the fastest possible route.

They spent the entire cab ride in silence, interrupted only by the driver's occasional attempts to engage them in conversation with remarks like, "Hey, what's up with the feathers?" and, "Don't go malting on my seats." He soon gave up with an amused snort when he glanced in the rear view mirror and caught the way they were looking at each other.

They were sitting facing each other as much as possible, Percival's right hand was alternately playing with Credence's hair, stroking his cheek, caressing the side of his neck, and squeezing his shoulder, while his left hand held Credence's right, fingers caressing and intertwining, his thumb tip stroking Credence's heart line. Every now and then, Percival lifted the hand and kissed the fingertips, or the knuckles, or the palm, until Credence's breathing was quick and irregular and his eyes were nearly black.

* * *

Despite the speedy trip, it was late afternoon by the time the front door to Credence's tiny apartment closed behind them, and Percival struggled not to launch himself at him like a wild animal, instead following him to the main room—both living and sleeping area—which consisted of little more than a comfy, worn sofa, a table, a few potted plants, a lot of books; and a bed piled high with extra blankets behind a colourful screen.

"I'll go and take off the chicken suit, okay?" Credence murmured, suddenly shy. "Make yourself comfortable."

"Don't be long," Percival said softly. "I can't wait to really see you."

Credence smiled and vanished into what Percival assumed was the bathroom, and he walked over to the single window in the room. The view wasn't stunning, but the room was cosy and warm, and what little there was in the way of furniture and decor looked chosen with care and taste.

Near the kitchenette, there was a large cork board on the wall displaying photos. Percival walked up to it curiously and frowned when he realised all the photos were of parties. There was photo after photo of happy families, and Credence was in the photos in a multitude of costumes, but Percival was sure none of them were Credence's family photos. There wasn't a single photo of one, two or three people who could be family or close friends. A painful lump rose in his throat, and he turned away from the evidence of Credence's lonely life; he himself was in the same boat, but at least he had a few relatives on reluctant display.

He looked across the room and swallowed hard. There stood Credence, looking at him anxiously, as if Percival could possibly find fault in him, any part of him—his lush dark curls, his perfect face, his tall and slim form, his endless legs and narrow, bare feet. His loose white T-shirt hugged a narrow chest, but his arms were well defined and absolutely lovely, fingers twisting into the soft fabric of his lounge pants.

"Credence..." Percival whispered, taking a few steps closer to him.

"I hope you're not too disappointed," Credence said, looking suddenly shy and vulnerable.

Percival couldn't let him feel that way. It was all wrong. He held out his arms and Credence was there in an instant, pressing against him, head tucked against his neck. Percival released a sigh and cupped the back of his head. "Credence, you're so beautiful. You're... everything." It was a strange thing to say, perhaps, but he could think of nothing that described his feelings better.

Credence raised his face and looked at him. His fingers traced Percival's cheek. "Do you really..." He gulped. "Do you really want me, Percival?"

That, too, might be a strange thing to say, but Percival knew at once this wasn't about whether or not he desired Credence; there could be no doubt about that. He remembered, in a flash, how happy Credence had looked when the Kowalskis had invited them back, had offered their hands in friendship... when Modesty had hugged him and didn't want him to leave... the photos on that board, of families belonging to others. Credence needed to belong.

"I want you, Credence," he said, his voice low and warm and firm, his hands cupping Credence's shoulders. "I've never wanted anyone or anything the way I want you."

"Percy..."

Percival drew him into his arms and kissed him until they were both light-headed, his hands drawing soothing patterns over his back and arms, his nape and the back of his head. Then he kissed his cheeks, his neck, his forehead, his palms—one after the other, until he felt Credence trembling against him.

Throughout the kissing, they had edged towards the sleeping corner, and when Percival lowered him onto the bed, on top of the disarrayed blankets, and followed him down, Credence was hard against him, his breaths coming quickly and his hands reaching for him with desperation, tugging off his suit jacket, his tie... fumbling with his shirt.

Once Percival's upper body was bare, save for the undone shirt still hanging off his arms and shoulders, Credence traced his hands over every line, and every muscle, following it with his lips. "You're so handsome," he whispered.

Percival smiled and held Credence's head loosely against himself, endlessly fascinated with the way his fingers twined in the soft curls. So he kissed them, then Credence's temples, feeling his pulse against his lips. "Sweet Credence," he murmured against the smooth skin, "will you let me make love to you? I know it's soon, and we've only just—"

"Yes." Credence's face was hot under his kisses. "Yes, please. I... I've wanted you to, all day, ever since..." He made a soft choking sound, as if feeling too awkward to go on.

"Yes, ever since," Percival agreed. "Me too, baby. Me too." Percival divested him of his T-shirt and shrugged out of his shirt, and they worked off their pants between them, until they were writhing naked on soft red, green and white tartan. "I haven't even taken you out to dinner yet," Percival apologised against his neck. "All we had was a multi-coloured lunch with strange animal pastries for dessert."

Credence laughed huskily, gasping when Percival's tongue flicked over his right nipple, his hands hot on his waist, his thigh between his, nudging up against him. "La-later," he stammered, "dinner... later."

"Later," Percival agreed, then promptly decided to have an appetiser anyway. He slid down Credence's body, hands smoothing over his sharp hipbones while he pressed open-mouthed kisses over his stomach and belly, before closing his lips over the dripping tip of his long, slender cock, sucking hard, moving down the impressive length with slow curls of his tongue against the shaft, while Credence cried out and shook all over. Percival wasn't going to tease and make him wait, not this first time, not when he was dripping already, his fluids sliding down Percival's throat as quickly as he could swallow. It wouldn't take long.

"Percy, ah!" Credence's fingers were painfully tight in his hair, but Percival relished his loss of control. He groaned around the hard, slick length of him, knowing the vibrations would bring him to the brink even faster. When the narrow hips started thrusting up towards him without coordination, he pressed them to the bed, but he went down as far as he could, swallowing determinedly. He didn't care that the head of that perfect cock all but choked him in that moment before the throb and the flood of Credence's seed released the pressure, slicked everything and filled his mouth and throat. He swallowed convulsively, again and again, his only regret being that some of Credence's essence dribbled from the corners of his mouth and slid back down his shaft. Credence's utter loss of control and mad writhing made any discomfort well worthwhile, and Percival didn't release him until he was soft and pliant in his mouth, and utterly drained. And then he held the limp flesh tenderly while chasing down every drop he had missed out on.

"Oh... dear... God." Credence sounded shattered.

"Shh, I've got you, baby." Percival crawled up his body, gathered him into his arms, against his broad chest, and held him tight. He caressed every inch of him he could reach, and continued doing so once Credence fell back a little, curls sprawling against the pillow. "Did you like that?"

Credence let out a shaky laugh, brushing the back of his trembling hand over his forehead. 

Percival smiled, knowing he had to be looking rather smug. "I guess you did."

Credence turned his face to fix his dark eyes on Percival's. They were at once tender and filled with passion, fluttering half closed when Percival traced one gently curved eyebrow with a finger tip. "I think feeling you inside me might kill me."

"I'd offer to be on the receiving end, but I think you might need to recover for a bit first." Percival smiled at Credence's tiredly eager expression. "As it's my turn first though, I'd better start slowly, make sure you stay conscious."

Credence raised his brows, but then his eyes widened when Percival slithered down between his legs again, parting his thighs wide and tenderly cupping his balls and nudging his limp cock to hold them out of the way of his lips and tongue. Credence's toes curled into the blanket, lovely thighs bracketing Percy's shoulders when he dove in.

"Is this your idea of helping me recover?" Credence asked, his voice cracking a little, and Percival chuckled.

It took very little effort and only a few licks to make Credence relax enough to let the tip of his tongue inside, and Percival enjoyed the desperate little whines he gave and the spasms around his thrusting tongue. He licked into him as deeply as he could, testing any additional widening of his hot channel with an exploratory finger, before working his tongue back in.

Credence was almost crying with need by the time Percival had him gaping wide enough open to take him with relative ease, assuming he could make things slick enough.

"What can I use?" Percival asked huskily, unable to tear his eyes from the result of his efforts, the glistening pink hole beckoning nearly unbearably to him.

"Oh no, I... I don't think I have anything."

"Oil, maybe? In the kitchen?" Percival suggested, and when Credence nodded jerkily, he hurried across the room, finding a small glass bottle of salad oil and bringing it back.

Credence bit his lip. "I'm sorry, I never thought..."

Percival knelt between his parted thighs again, gaze darting back and forth between Credence's wild-eyed expression and the inviting space right in front of his twitching cock. "That you'd meet the love of your life today?" he suggested, then stared at Credence, his heart sinking. He could have bitten his tongue off for his presumptuousness; had he ruined everything?

But Credence grasped at his arms, gazing at him with an expression which all but unmoored Percival. All he said was, "yes," with utmost tenderness.

Percival swallowed, his hands suddenly shaking so hard, he nearly dropped the bottle of oil. He blindly sloshed a generous amount of it into his palm, coating himself hurriedly, then drizzled more into Credence's hole with a brief glance at what he was doing, groaning when his opened channel twitched at the cool liquid sliding inside, and set the bottle down... he had no idea where.

Credence gasped when he slid three fingers into him, scissoring them and ensuring the oil was well distributed, thrusting them a few times and adding a curl of the tips that made Credence moan out loud and arch his back and neck.

"I need you," Percival growled, not stopping the motions of his fingers. "Now, Credence. I... I'll be so careful, okay? But you have to tell me if it hurts. Oil isn't ideal."

"It won't hurt," Credence said with beautiful confidence. "I want you so much. Have me, Percy, please."

Percival was breathing hard, his chest clenching at the words, and he braced himself on either side of Credence and pushed into his heat as slowly as he could make himself. It didn't help that Credence was once again hard, his cock trailing wet streaks across his stomach.

Credence clung to him, moaning softly while he slid inside. His moans were interspersed with little gasping hiccups, as if he was surprised by every sensation, and Percival wondered. He wondered very much whether he was the first to have this privilege.

"Are you mine, baby?" he panted out, he couldn't help it.

"God, yes," Credence gasped, clinging onto his back, hands sliding down, kneading the firm flesh of his buttocks. His legs tightened around his hips. "Please. _Please._ "

Percival pressed his mouth to the arched neck, breathing Credence's scent, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin, while he took possession of him. His hands found their way under his sides, and he moved slowly for as long as he could, but the convulsive tightening around his cock, the panting close to his ear, and the sweaty slide of palms on his arse and lower back made it hard to hang on to even a semblance of control.

Credence's body shook under him, pliant and on a knife edge of tension at once, his legs suddenly moving and clasping fully around Percival's hips, his ankles pulling him close, forcing him inside his body to the hilt with a little cry.

"Fuck!" Percival gasped, his iron control snapping in a second, and he shook with the unexpectedly sudden onset of orgasm. His bit down on a tendon in Credence's neck, the answering whimper and wash of wet heat between them extending his own climax until he felt dizzy, shooting load after load into the depths of Credence's body, while the long legs kept him in a vice-like grip, not allowing an inch of space between them. "Credence..." he breathed against sweaty skin. "Sweet Jesus."

"Did you like that?" Credence asked, sounding somehow both languid and cheeky at once.

Percival breathed out a laugh. He kissed his neck, lapped at the hollow at the base of it, then reared up and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth.

Credence lay limp and panting, only very slowly letting his legs fall open and away around Percival's body. His thighs were sticky when they peeled away from Percival's hips, and he shivered when wetness flowed out of him, mewling regretfully at the loss.

Percival tried to make up for it with another couple of thrusts, to push what was left deeper inside, even though he was already too soft for it to be effective. He just managed to rearrange his arms around Credence, and pressed his thighs together with his legs on either side of him, with some possessive notion of leaving his seed inside him for as long as possible, before he collapsed beside him. Then he drew him on top of himself and held him close.

Credence's fingers played with his chest hair and traced circles on his skin, and he giggled softly.

"What?" Percival asked with a wide smile.

"I'm just so happy. When I'm happy, I giggle, or I feel as if my happiness might burst out some other way."

Percival stroked over his hair. "If there's anything I can do to keep you happy all the time, just let me know, and it will be done."

Credence rested his palms atop each other on Percival's chest and his chin on top of them. "Looking at you makes me happy," he confessed.

Smiling, Percival admitted, "This morning, I was thinking about offering you the job of sitting across from me at my desk and smiling now and then, just to help me get through my dull days."

"When this morning?" Credence asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Quite early this morning." Percival curled a strand of black hair around his middle finger.

"Really?" Credence sounded extraordinarily pleased.

"Hmm. When did you realise that looking at me makes you happy?" Percival asked.

"Quite early this morning."

Laughing, Percival released Credence's lock to tug him upwards by his shoulders until he was eye to eye with him, his legs around him helping to nudge him higher.

"I can still feel you inside me," Credence said a little shakily. He pressed his hips down a little, moaning softly at the warm stickiness, and the way Percival met his hips.

"Good. I want you to." Percival held the slight form close with a hand on his back and the other wrapped around the nape of his neck. "I want you to get hard again lying on top of me like this, and then I want you to fuck me."

Credence whimpered. "That might take a while, although... I really, really want to."

Percival undulated a little under him, smiling at Credence's soft gasp. "We have time, and if there's anything I can do to help..."

Credence pressed his lips to his cheek. "Keep talking to me. I think your voice alone, no matter what you say, will make me hard sooner rather than later."

"Is that so?" Percival smiled at Credence's slightly sheepish expression. "What did the little old lady whisper to you this morning?"

Credence groaned. "Percy! You're talking to me about little old ladies _now_?"

Laughing, Percival insisted, "You said, no matter what I talk about, and I've been dying to ask all day."

Credence blushed. "I'm not sure I should tell you."

"Now I really want to know. Or are you keeping secrets from me already?" Percival teased.

"It might scare you off."

"Hey." Percival held his eyes, expression soft. "You might as well know right now, baby, I'm not easy to scare off. 

Credence hid his face by nuzzling against the side of Percival's neck and murmured, "She said, 'Hold on to that one, ducky, he's the type who'll always hold on to you. I'm never wrong about these things.'" There was a pause, and he sighed, "Sorry, I shouldn't have told you."

"Why not?" Percival asked softly, lifting his face to meet his eyes. "She's right, you know."

"Oh." Credence swallowed. "You... you'll always hold on to me?"

Percival drew his head close and gave him a sweet, tender kiss. "I will, if you'll only let me."

It was Credence's turn to surge forward, kissing him long and deep, fingers winding into Percival's hair and grinding down against him. He whimpered when Percival's arms tightened around him as well, returning the pressure. They kissed for long minutes, trading desperate breaths between their open mouths, licking into each other and nipping playfully at each other's lips.

Percival, when Credence released his mouth at last, had his answer. He hadn't known, until that moment, how it felt to have a heart given into your care unconditionally, but he knew he was up to the responsibility. This was the only heart he wanted, in a fair exchange for his own.

Credence licked his lips, and Percival caressed his lovely face. He swept his thumb over the red mouth, and Credence parted his lips, nipping at it playfully.

"I don't think it's going to take long," Percival murmured, shifting a little against Credence's speedily recovering hardness.

Gasping, Credence released his thumb tip, only to snap down on it again playfully, suckling it as he ground down against Percival, with slight shifts from side to side.

"I just hope I can keep up with you," Percival managed to say, with some difficulty. The slow drag of Credence's impressive cock against the juncture of his hip and thigh threatened to make him see stars.

"I don't think that's going to be a problem." Credence proved his words true when he undulated his hips so his cock slid along Percival's, which was anything but uninterested.

"You might be right." Percival smiled. He rolled slightly on top of Credence, making both of them moan. He'd spotted the oil bottle on the other side of them, just nestled into a corner of the bunched sheets, an inch away from falling onto the carpet.

Credence held his hand open, and Percival poured some oil in his open palm. To his surprise, the slender hand wrapped around his cock first, slicking it up in smooth strokes, until his breathing came out in harsh gasps and he was dripping onto Credence's belly and groin.

"What lovely hands you have," Percival murmured, thrusting a little into the smooth grip. "In fact, I can't decide which part of you is loveliest."

Credence seemed to glow with the praise. "Every part of me is at your disposal." 

Percival took a deep breath, gaze moored in Credence's dark eyes, throbbing in his grasp. "Stop," he gasped out. "Don't finish me off. I want you inside me when I come."

Credence's eyes fluttered half-closed. He licked his lips and nodded jerkily. Then he held his hand out for more oil, and they both watched as he brought his slick digits down between them. Percival was still half draped over him, and he shifted his left leg until his knee was beside Credence's hip, giving him ample room to prepare them both.

Credence's fingers were trembling when he began to tease at Percival's hole, and a warm, sure hand covered the back of his, encouraging him. He smiled gratefully. "I'll be careful," he said softly.

Touched, Percival returned his smile. "I know you will." Credence was, in fact, so careful, that it took Percival's grip around his hand to make him breach him at last and, for a couple of minutes, Percival kept hold of his hand, directing the way the single finger moved in and out of him. When he let go of Credence's hand, he wondered if he might not simply stop for fear of hurting him, but he was pleasantly surprised.

Credence kept going, uninterrupted, his long finger sliding in and out easily, twisting and turning a little and, when he tried for two fingers, Percival's slow exhale turned into a groan. "Am I hurting you?" Credence asked worriedly, slowing down but not stopping.

"God no, you're doing so great."

Credence beamed at him, and Percival couldn't help but laugh huskily at the self-satisfied smile, but his laughter turned to shuddering gasps when Credence found his pace, fingers now thrusting into him steadily and self-assuredly, moving in little circles and crooking until he found the right spot.

"Cre- Credence!" Percival growled, trying to steady himself with his left hand beside Credence's head, fingers curling into the blanket, knee digging into the bedding next to his hip, providing counter pressure to the strokes threatening to make him levitate right up off the bed. He was dripping slickness all over Credence, wondering just how long he could last once the determined fingers were replaced by that gorgeous cock. "I really need you to fuck me now," he managed to get out.

Credence made a sweet, surprised sound, but he withdrew his fingers, a little too quickly, leaving Percival clenching on nothing, and slicked up his own cock as quickly as he could, not lingering. "Like this?" he asked, turning just enough to line himself up with Percival, the bulbous, red tip of his cock nudging his opened hole, hands on Percival's arse.

"Exactly like this," Percival said, pressing back and forcing himself down on Credence's cock.

Credence almost sobbed as he slid into him, but he kept going, pressing in while he pulled Percival down on himself, until he bottomed out. "Uh... Percy..."

"You're so good," Percival praised, leaning in to kiss Credence. "So very good." He licked at his lips, teeth nipping at the bottom one. "My beautiful, perfect baby."

Credence mewled, his hands shifting to Percival's hips, and he started to thrust in and out of him in quick, short bursts, even while they kept kissing.

Despite the substantial length inside him, Percival nudged Credence into longer, deeper strokes bit by bit, revelling in the absolute fullness which could only be improved on in one way. "So close."

"Me... too..." Credence panted, clutching at Percival's back so tightly, they didn't move very far apart between thrusts, but it was enough, close to the edge as they were.

"Come, baby," Percival coaxed. "Fill me up." He ground down on Credence's cock and contracted around him, a moment before he climaxed messily over Credence's stomach and chest.

"Percy!" Credence cried out and shuddered, his third orgasm forced out of him by the contraction, Percival's words, and the slickness added to the mess he'd already made of himself.

By the time their breathing and heart rates were back to normal, they had both decided that a shower was absolutely essential. Or it would be, once they were able to move.

"We could order takeaways," Credence suggested sleepily. He lay against Percival, head on his shoulder, looking soft and warm in the amber-red light of the setting sun.

Percival smiled. "Are you sure? Not much of a first date."

Credence looked up at him. "I have no complaints," he said, and Percival really couldn't disagree. "Take me out to dinner tomorrow?"

"Absolutely." Percival brushed back a strand of sweaty hair from Credence's forehead. "Will you still be wearing the pirate costume from tomorrow's party?"

Credence giggled. "You remembered that?"

"I have the memory of an elephant, and especially when it comes to you, you'll find."

Grinning, Credence asked, "Do you _want_ me to wear the pirate costume?" In a fit of mischief, he suggested, "I could pick you up at work, give your colleagues something to talk about."

Laughing out loud, Percival thought about that for all of two seconds. "Yes, that would be perfect."

Credence gave him a long, deep kiss, and Percival decided, after the day they'd had, that there was no limit to the rewards impulsiveness could reap. He decided to make it a habit.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://sweetsorcery.tumblr.com/), and we can squee about this and maybe other pairings/fandoms we love. I'm also on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sweetsorcery) and [Dreamwidth](https://sweetsorcery.dreamwidth.org/). Feel free to drop me a message anywhere. :)


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